Chapter 3 REGRET AND RETURN

--- The night was unnaturally silent, the kind that pressed against the chest like a weight. Lysander approached the small wooden house at the edge of the forest, his footsteps dragging along the dusty path. His heart was heavy, a storm of emotions swirling within him. Shame. Anger. Confusion. And worst of all-rejection. Minutes ago, everything had shattered. The memory was still vivid in his mind: the look of disgust on Princess Astra's face as she turned away from him.

Just like that, she rejected him-as if he were nothing. What did I expect? he thought bitterly. That she'd open her arms and smile? Welcome me like a hero? He scoffed under his breath.

I'm a joke. A sore loser who can't even hold his ground. A burden. "She can't just reject us that way, we need to talk to her, take me to her," came a voice in his head-raspy, dark, desperate. Magnus. Lysander flinched as the presence of the other half of him stirred, unwanted. "Magnus, just... leave me alone for now," he muttered aloud, a groan escaping his lips. But silence followed. Magnus retreated.

For now. Lysander reached the door and gently pushed it open, cringing at the soft creak it gave. He didn't want to see anyone, not after today. Not in this state. He just needed to disappear, to vanish into the shadows of his room and try to forget. He stepped inside, careful and quiet. Darkness filled the house. No lanterns lit. No sounds. Odd. His brows furrowed.

As he tiptoed forward, his foot collided with something solid. It rolled slightly with a sickening thud. He hissed and cursed under his breath, then reached for the light switch on the wall. The room blinked into clarity. And the world around him shattered once more. "Sage?" The name tumbled from his lips as he dropped to his knees. His older brother lay sprawled across the wooden floor, limbs twisted unnaturally. Blood pooled around him, soaking into the boards, staining everything it touched. Lysander crawled forward in disbelief, his hands trembling as they touched Sage's arm-cold and limp. "Sage!" he cried, shaking him gently at first, then harder. "Sage, wake up! Please!" No answer. No breath. Just silence. Panic clawed at Lysander's chest. "Mum! Dad!" he yelled, stumbling to his feet. His legs were heavy, barely responding as he bolted down the hall toward their room. He froze in the doorway. There they were-his mother and father-lying close together on the floor, blood staining their nightclothes. His mother's eyes were open, vacant. His father's chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. "No. No no no no," Lysander whispered, stumbling toward them. "Please don't do this to me. Please, mum, dad. Please..." His knees hit the floor hard, and tears rushed down his cheeks, hot and relentless. "Ly...san...der..." He looked up, heart skipping. "Dad?" he gasped, crawling closer. Mr. Blackwood's face was pale, his breaths short and pained. But his eyes locked on Lysander with startling clarity, despite the death closing in on him. "Run... Take Zane with you..." he rasped. "He's in the... kitchen cupboard. Go. Now. They'll come back." "What? Who-who did this?" Lysander cried, gripping his father's bloodied hand. "Why would anyone do this to us?" Mr. Blackwood didn't answer. Instead, he fumbled at his side, pulling something from beneath him. A bracelet. Blue pearl beads strung together with a faint glow. It shimmered faintly in the dim room. "You're... not our child, Lysander," his father whispered. "We found you... twenty years ago... floating in a wooden box on the river. A newborn... barely a day old. You had this bracelet with you..." Lysander stared at him, stunned. "What...?" "We knew someone was trying to hurt you. We raised you as our own. Loved you like our son. You are our son. But your real family... they're out there." His father took a shaky breath, slipping the bracelet onto Lysander's wrist. It tightened slightly, warm against his skin. "You need to find your people. The bracelet will guide you. And Lysander..." He paused, coughing violently. Blood trickled from his mouth. "Promise me. Protect Zane. He's your brother. You must keep him safe." Lysander swallowed hard, nodding furiously through tears. "I promise. I won't let anything happen to him." A howl echoed in the distance-deep, sharp, too close. "They're back," Mr. Blackwood whispered. "Go." "Dad-!" "GO!" His voice, though frail, boomed with finality. And then... he went still. Lysander watched as the last breath left his father's chest. His arm fell limp, eyes glazed. "No... DAD!" he sobbed, clutching him one last time before the howls drew closer-closer than before. Lysander leapt to his feet, his grief pushed aside by instinct. He sprinted to the kitchen, throwing open the cupboard. "Zane!" he whispered urgently. Inside, his ten-year-old brother was curled up, eyes wide, tears streaming down his face. He was shaking, his hands clamped over his mouth to keep himself from screaming. Lysander scooped him up, holding him close. "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you." The back door was his only option now. He burst through it, sprinting into the night, into the thick darkness of the woods. The wind roared in his ears. Branches tore at his skin. But he didn't stop. Not until he heard it-the sound of paws pounding against the earth. He turned back for just a moment. Wolves. At least four of them, black as the night, slipping into the house. But he recognized the mark on their flanks. The crest of the royal guard. Lysander's stomach dropped. "The Alpha..." he muttered, eyes narrowing, heart burning with rage. "He did this. They all did this." He pulled Zane closer, jaw clenched tight. "I'll make them pay. Every last one of them." And then he disappeared into the forest, the weight of a lost family and a new destiny pressing on his shoulders. --- "What have you done, what have you done?" Rafa's voice boomed inside Astra head, a mix of fury and desperation that made Astra flinch. Her head throbbed from the intensity of their bond being pulled taut, and she groaned, pressing her fingers against her temples. "It wasn't my fault," she muttered aloud, even though she knew Rafa could hear her clearly from within. "It was your fault," Rafa snarled. "You were flirting with another man-right in front of him!" "That man is my boyfriend!" she snapped back mentally. "What was I supposed to do? Pretend like he didn't exist just because my so-called 'mate' showed up out of nowhere?" "You didn't just pretend, you were enjoying it. You knew he was watching!" Rafa roared. Astra winced at the truth of it. Maybe a small part of her had wanted to provoke him. Maybe she hadn't been ready to accept the bond... Maybe she was just scared. "I hate him so much, that Kieran" Rafa growled, sulking like a wounded beast. "But I hate you more right now." Astra sighed and sank onto the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the wall. "Okay. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight," she admitted quietly. "But what do you expect me to do now? It's done." "Speak to him," Rafa pleaded, though the anger still simmered beneath. "Apologize. Swallow your pride. I want my mate back." Astra scoffed. "You know I can't do that." "Then don't speak to me." Silence. "Rafa?" Nothing. She blinked, suddenly feeling emptier than before. "Rafa, come on," she called out mentally, reaching for the presence that had always been part of her since her first transformation. But Rafa was gone. Not physically-never physically-but she had locked her out. And that silence hurt more than any argument. She groaned in frustration and flopped back on the bed, pressing her palms into her eyes. The room was dimly lit by the warm orange glow of the setting sun that filtered through the curtains. Her heart felt like it was caught in a warzone. She'd hurt her mate. The moment she'd met him-the second their eyes locked-she'd known. The connection was real, undeniable. But she hadn't been ready. And instead of handling it with grace or courage, she'd made it worse. A knock sounded on the door. Before she could respond, it opened and in walked Alpha Wynter-her father. "Is something troubling you?" he asked, his tone gentle, but his sharp eyes didn't miss much. Astra quickly sat up, forcing a smile. "No, Dad. I'm fine." He arched a brow, clearly not convinced, but didn't press her. Instead, he walked over and sat beside her on the bed. The weight of his presence was always comforting, solid and grounding. "You know," he began, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "when your mother first found out I was her mate, she hated me for three weeks straight." Astra blinked in surprise. "She what?" Wynter chuckled, his voice deep and rumbling. "Oh yes. She thought I was arrogant, too strong-headed, too... well, too Alpha. But eventually, she realized it wasn't about control or expectation. It was about connection. Growth. Forgiveness." Astra leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. "I think I really messed up, Dad." He didn't ask for details. He didn't need to. "You can always talk to me, sweetheart," he said softly. "And I promise you-on your mother's grave-that nothing will ever happen to you as long as I'm alive." Her throat tightened, and she nodded. "Thanks, Dad." They sat in silence for a moment before he rose, kissed the top of her head, and quietly left the room. The second the door closed behind him, the smile dropped from her face. Her shoulders slumped, the weight of guilt and longing sinking in again. She lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The room felt colder without Rafa's presence in her mind. They were bonded. Connected in a way most people never fully understood. Losing that voice-her voice-was like losing part of herself. "Rafa?" she whispered. Silence. Then, barely a whisper: "Fix it." Her heart squeezed. She sat up slowly, determination lighting a fire in her chest. She had made a mistake. But maybe-just maybe-it wasn't too late to make it right. - The moon hung high above the canopy, casting pale silver streaks between the twisted branches of the forest. Shadows danced across the leaves, giving the woods an eerie, restless quality. It was well past midnight, and the air had grown cold-too cold for comfort. Lysander trudged forward, his breath misting in the chill. His legs ached, and his wounded heart pulsed with the heaviness of grief. Zane clung tightly to his hand, his small fingers trembling in his grasp. The boy's quiet sobs had faded to sniffles, but Lysander could still feel the fear radiating off him. "Please keep quiet, okay?" Lysander whispered gently. Zane nodded, but his lip quivered. "Where's Mummy?" he asked in a broken voice. "And Sage too? They... they told me to stay in the cupboard. Why aren't they with us? Did... did something bad happen to them?" Lysander's steps slowed. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat refusing to budge. He turned slightly toward his little brother, trying to find words that wouldn't break them both. "Mum, Dad, and Sage are..." A low growl sliced through the air, cutting him off. Lysander froze. They weren't alone. Red eyes flickered from the darkness between the trees, one pair... then two... then many. A shiver ran down his spine as he tightened his hold on Zane's hand. "Stay close to me," he whispered. From every direction, wolves emerged. Not ordinary wolves-these were rogues. Their bodies were lean, starved-looking, and their eyes glowed a sinister red. Their growls filled the night like a rising chorus of death. Zane whimpered and stepped closer to Lysander, burying his face in his brother's side. The rogues began to circle them, their steps light but purposeful. Hungry. Angry. One of the wolves snarled and lunged. Lysander grabbed Zane and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding snapping jaws. He scrambled to his feet, pushing Zane behind him. More came. One after another, they launched themselves forward, and Lysander fought back with everything he had-his fists, his feet, desperation. He swung at a rogue that got too close, landing a punch that sent the wolf stumbling back. Another sank its teeth into his arm, and he cried out, wrenching it away and kicking it hard in the ribs. Blood stained his shirt. His face was cut. His strength was waning. But he refused to let them get to Zane. "Come on!" he yelled, pushing Zane behind a fallen log. "Stay there and don't move!" The largest of the rogues growled and charged, its claws raking across Lysander's chest. He stumbled backward, nearly collapsing-but forced himself to stay up. Then something shifted. Another wolf leapt from a branch above, jaws wide open-and Lysander raised his arm in defense. In that moment, the bracelet on his wrist pulsed with light. A blinding, radiant crystal blue glow erupted from it, washing over his body in a heartbeat. He screamed-not from fear, but pain-as his bones cracked and shifted beneath his skin. His body twisted, reshaping with a force that dropped him to his knees. Zane peeked from behind the log, eyes wide in horror and awe. Lysander let out a cry as his limbs extended, fur burst from his skin, his jaw elongated. The transformation completed in seconds, and where the wounded boy had stood now loomed a massive white wolf-majestic and terrifying. His eyes glowed with the same blue as the bracelet, now fused to the thick fur on his front leg. His body was enormous, towering over the other wolves. Snow-white fur shimmered under the moonlight, and his sharp fangs gleamed like silver blades. The rogues froze. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Lysander released a roar-like howl that split the silence. Fear spread through the rogues like wildfire-but they were too many, and too bloodthirsty to retreat so easily. They attacked. Five launched themselves at him, jaws open, teeth ready to shred-but Lysander moved with impossible speed. He ducked, turned, and with a powerful swipe of his paw, sent two flying into the trees. Another tried to bite his flank, but he twisted mid-motion and crushed it beneath his weight. One after another, they came. And one after another, they fell. He fought like a beast possessed, primal and relentless. His claws slashed through flesh and bone. His teeth clamped down on necks and limbs. Howls of pain filled the forest as rogue after rogue collapsed under his fury. Some tried to run-but he chased them down, ensuring none would return to finish what they started. Then the tide shifted. The remaining rogues hesitated, their snarls faltering. Lysander stood tall in the clearing, blood staining his white coat, eyes glowing with raw power. He growled, deep and menacing-and that was all it took. With whimpers and yelps, the survivors turned and fled into the trees, tails tucked between their legs, vanishing into the dark like shadows. Silence returned. Lysander let out a victorious howl that echoed across the trees, then slowly stumbled back. His body trembled. His vision blurred. And then he collapsed beside Zane. In the same glowing light that had transformed him, his form shifted back-bones cracking in reverse as he returned to human form. Naked, bloodied, breathing hard. Zane had crawled out from behind the log, barely conscious, a thin cut across his forehead. "Lysa..." he murmured, his voice weak. "I'm here..." Lysander whispered, reaching for him. The bracelet on his wrist shimmered once more, glowing steadily. A soft hum filled the air as a protective barrier, like a translucent dome of light, emerged from it-encasing both brothers. Warmth flooded through them. Zane collapsed beside him, unconscious but safe. Lysander's eyes fluttered shut. They were alive. For now. - THE NEXT DAY The morning air was crisp, but Astra barely felt it as she stepped out of the pack house in her school uniform, her bag slung lazily over her shoulder. Her thoughts were distant, still entangled in the events of last night-the rejection, the tension, and the pain in Lysander's eyes before he turned away. She sighed, ready to push the memory to the back of her mind, when a commotion at the training field caught her attention. A small crowd had gathered, guards standing stiffly in front of Alpha Wynter. Curious, Astra slowed her steps, then began to approach, keeping herself hidden behind a wooden post near the corridor that overlooked the field. Her breath caught as she saw what lay at the Alpha's feet-three bloodied, mangled bodies wrapped in torn clothing, dirt and dried blood covering their skin. Her stomach twisted, her fingers going numb. "What happened to them?" Alpha Wynter demanded, his voice sharp with disbelief and fury. "Someone reported finding them just outside their house," one of the guards replied grimly. "They were attacked last night... by rogues." "Rogues?" Alpha Wynter repeated, eyebrows knitting together. "That's impossible. We have guards posted at every entrance to the territory. How could they have gotten in?" The guards glanced uneasily at one another. "We... we don't know, Alpha. But the wounds are unmistakable. Claw marks, bite wounds-some even appear to have been mauled beyond recognition." "We are sorry, Alpha," another guard added quickly. "We will double the patrols. This kind of lapse won't happen again." Astra's heart pounded as she watched the Alpha kneel by one of the bodies, his hand brushing over a torn pack crest still clinging to a shredded shirt. "Any survivors?" he asked, his voice lower now, almost hopeful. "We're not sure. But... their two sons, Lysander and Zane... their bodies weren't found. It's possible the rogues took them." The guard's voice was hesitant. Astra's eyes widened in shock. She took a step back unconsciously, her hand flying to her mouth. Lysander... Zane... "No," she whispered to herself. "Find them," the Alpha commanded, rising to his feet. "Search every inch of that forest. If they're alive, we bring them home. If they're dead-" he stopped himself, shaking his head. "Just find them." The guards nodded and quickly dispersed. Astra turned and stumbled back toward the pack house, her vision blurry, her chest tight with something she couldn't quite explain. She pushed open the door to her room and leaned against it, closing her eyes as everything spun around her. This is my fault, she thought. If I hadn't rejected him... if I hadn't been so cruel... maybe he wouldn't have left last night. Maybe he wouldn't be gone now. She sank onto her bed, holding her head in her hands. Her heart ached, a sharp pain clawing at her chest. "Feeling sad?" a voice cut through the silence. Astra's head snapped up. Kieran was standing in her room, leaning casually against the wall, arms folded. She hadn't even heard him come in. "What are you doing here?" she asked, wiping a tear before it could fall. "I heard what happened outside," he said, walking toward her. "Everyone's talking about it." She turned her face away. "He's my mate..." she said softly, more to herself than to him. There was a pause. "So you care about him?" She didn't answer. Kieran chuckled dryly. "You know... I found my mate yesterday too." Astra's eyes snapped to his. "You did?" He nodded. "Some girl from the Moonshade Pack. Sweet, quiet... not my type." "Oh..." Astra murmured, unsure of how to respond. "But I rejected her immediately." His voice was firm. He stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands. "Because I only want you. I've only ever wanted you." Astra's breath hitched. "I love you, Astra. I don't care what the Moon Goddess says, or fate, or any of that crap. You're all I want." "I... I love you too," she whispered, though the words felt hollow. His eyes lit up. "Then let's get married." "What?" "Let's get married," he repeated. "Your father adores me. He'll agree if you ask him. We don't need a mate bond to prove we're meant for each other." "But Kieran... we're still in school," she said, her voice unsure. "Isn't marriage too fast?" "I've never wanted anything more," he said, pulling her into a tight hug. "I need you, Astra. I want you. We belong together. If the Moon Goddess won't approve, then we'll prove her wrong." Astra stood still in his arms, her eyes staring blankly over his shoulder. "...Okay," she said softly. Kieran pulled back, grinning. "Yes! That's all I needed to hear." He kissed her forehead, then pulled her into another embrace. "Thank you, Astra." She didn't speak. Her gaze remained unfocused as silent tears slipped down her cheeks, each one falling heavier than the last. She didn't even know why she was crying. But deep down, her soul did. --- AT THE WOOD A group of men in white garments moved silently through the forest, the one leading them holding a glowing stone that pulsed brighter with each step. They followed its light until it stopped, glowing intensely before a shimmering shield. Inside the dome, Lysander and Zane lay unconscious, protected by a soft, blue light. "We have found the Alpha Prince," one of the men whispered, awe in his voice. Without hesitation, they all dropped to their knees around the shield, heads bowed in deep reverence. The glowing stone continued to hum, as if confirming the truth. "The prophecy lives," the leader murmured. "He has returned." He added.